Scotty Dog Soup
by MayBeAPolarBear
Summary: Ms. Paint teaches Spades Slick about the wonders of the flushed romance. R-M for language.


**_Author's Note : Okay, so I received a request from Perpetualimagination on Tumblr, who asked for a Ms. Paint 3 Spades Slick ficlet._**

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"Mr. Slick? I've brought your soup!"

The stout, porcelain-skinned woman entered the ward, holding what seemed to be a dinner tray with a steaming bowl of stew balanced carefully in the middle. She closed the door behind her, and stepped over to the injured man who was lying underneath the duvets in the bed beside the wall. The woman pulled up a chair and started to gently stir the gloopy black mixture.

"Go away. I'm not hungry."

The Prospitan frowned. "It'll do you good. Look, it's even got those liquorice terriers that you love so much in it."

The bedsheets shifted; the prospect of liquorice dogs had obviously piqued the darker-skinned man's interest. "Liquorice Scotty Dogs don't deserve to be drowned in that oil spill crap."

The woman was slightly taken aback. "That was rather rude, Mr. Slick. I'm actually quite offended, I spent a lot of time preparing this soup, only to have you compare it to an oil spill?"

Spades Slick flushed, and turned his face into his pillow to obscure it. "Sorry. Ms. Paint."

His words were gruff, but you could say there was a touch of sincerity to his voice. Ms. Paint tilted her head, and offered him a warm smile.

"It's quite alright, dear. Now get your face out from behind that pillow and drink up. This soup will help you regain your energy, and with the kind of activities you get up to, you're going to need it!" Ms. Paint smiled, shaking Slick's shoulder gently to try and get him to sit up. However, his face was still firmly planted into that pillow.

"Nah." Slick's reply was muffled. Ms. Paint grimaced once again.

"What on earth are you hiding from?" the woman asked, folding her arms. Then, she suddenly realised, and a sly grin replaced her previously confused expression. "Now, Mr. Slick, there's no need to be shy…"

"I'm not shy!" Slick's response was quick and surly. "This pillow… it just smells good. Nothing shy about it in the slightest!"

"Well, there's no reason to be bashful around me then!" Ms. Paint chimed, suddenly swiping the pillow out from underneath Slick's face. Now with no excuse to hide himself, his only option was to sit up.

Now his face was exposed, a bright red blush had invaded his cheeks. Ms. Paint couldn't help but giggle. The coldblooded gangster; now reduced to a hopelessly smitten fool? This was far too adorable, and the Prospitan girl thought she would guide him in the right direction of red romance. Besides, he was going to need all the help he could get, being such an icy-cold fellow.

Ms. Paint placed the tray down onto the floor beside her, and grabbed hold of his left hand, the only hand that would still have some kind of feeling to it; as his right arm had been ripped off in an accident, and had been exchanged for a metallic prosthetic replacement. Slick's first response was to jolt with surprise and pull his hand away, but Ms. Paint kept a firm grip, holding his hand down with her petite, yet strong grasp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Spades grunted, the red flush only intensifying.

"I'm giving you an introduction to Matespritshipping." she grinned, slipping her delicate fingers between Slick's. "Seeing you really have no idea when it comes to red romance!"

"Grf." grumbled Slick, however, he didn't attempt to remove his hand.

"Matespritships, in my opinion, are the most important relationships in a quadrant." began Ms. Paint, "And therefore have to be approached with care!"

"How am I supposed to… show someone I have red feelings for them?" growled Spades through gritted teeth, feeling incredibly flustered about the whole thing. "By stabbing them in the chest?"

"Goodness me, no!" exclaimed the light-skinned woman, shocked. "Acts of hateful violence are reserved for black romance only. The best way to show somebody you have red feelings for them… is a kiss!"

"A kiss? Bleurgh!" blurted Slick, who wasn't too keen on that idea. "That's disgustingly vile! And I wouldn't ever be rendered to such a defenceless state and—"

Slick was about to continue, until he felt a pair of soft lips brush against his cheek.

"Jesus, what the hell was that for?" spluttered Spades, turning scarlet. "That was disgusting!"

"Why don't you return the favour?" Ms. Paint prodded her cheek with her index finger. Slick glowered.

"Mng. If it shuts you up about this whole red romance thing, then fine." Slowly edging towards her, Slick painfully pursed his lips, and pressed a quick kiss onto the Prospitan girl's face. Then he shot back, concealing himself under the duvet. Feeling as if her job there was done, Ms. Paint stood up from her chair.

"Well, I'm going to leave you be for a while." she said, trying not to show her pure pleasure from Slick's act of affection. "Your soup's on the floor there if you want it, although it might be a bit cold now."

"Wait!" the hoarse voice from underneath the duvet cried out. "You're coming back… right?"

"Only if you want me to." Ms. Paint simpered. "Would you like me to come back?"

"Yes… That would be most pleasing."


End file.
